Land of broken promises

@insolentcynic reblogged for a starter

⸻ THE WOMAN LOOKED UP AND DOWN, TAXING THE SLIGHTLY WOBBLING MALE IN FRONT OF HER. He reeked horribly, to the point where she could almost taste his smell. It was revolting and yet… somehow made her curious. He didn’t just smell of the litres of alcohol he poured into himself that evening, nor was it his sweat that was still visible on his neck. It wasn’t even that unpleasant stench of not taking a shower within the last day that got to her. She could feel power coming from him and it was… chaotic. Horrible, not like hers, not natural. She wanted to ask him about it but couldn’t. Not when they were standing over a corpse that was very obviously missing a liver. The exotic dancer was being interrogated. “Get it in your damn head, you wannabe Detective Conan, that it wasn’t me. You saw me dancing on that stage all evening!”

⸻ “HMM..” A small smirk appeared on his face almost immediately after the other’s rudeness was finished. He shook his head. “No, no, no. If I was after things like that I would’ve just dumped my money in the river and not bother with wasting it on con artists.” He answered politely. He looked at the man in front of him closely. He had a Geordie accent (which he was trying to cover up—Matt wasn’t sure for what reason) and that unpleasant feeling about him that the young male felt when he entered the… establishment. “I’m not here for your…uhh… services. I’m here for a consultation with the man himself. I’ve heard… rumours that he’s capricious but very well versed in exorcisms. I happen to know a person whose parents would thank desperately, and generously, for a single demon expulsion from their daughter. They know I’m not easily scammed so they asked me to find someone and well… rumour has it, mister Nam is the best around—albeit a little difficult to work with?” The best way to make a lie work is to make it as true as possible. In this case, he was talking about Juri. If he was asked any details of her possession he’d be able to answer them properly, thus killing any potential suspicions. “So… is the boss around? Could I maybe speak to him? I really need his help.”

@insolentcynic asked for a starter.

⸻ HIS LIFE WAS A NEVER-ENDING SET OF UNEXPECTED EVENTS AND TODAY WAS NO DIFFERENT. Matthew Kang has met an occultist. Well, more like, Matthew Kang met another person who claimed to be an occultist. This man, however, was different than the usual frauds. He seemed to pay little to no attention to the form, Matt saw barely any of the regular gadgets and trinkets that most occultists used. No crystal balls or incense burning in the corner of the shop. Actually, if he didn’t know where he was, the man would assume this was some shady pawn shop, used by local thugs for money laundering, maybe even some backdoor prostitution. But no, his information was always correct, so the young man, who sat by the piece of furniture that was probably a counter back in its other life, had to be the occultist. Frankly, he looked more like a drug dealer that broke the one golden rule of not taking what he’s selling but eh. Who said frauds of one kind can’t rebrand into something even more bullshite, right? The tall male walked in and leaned over the counter, making sure not to touch it, in fear of getting himself dirty, or worse—attacked by bugs, that surely were somewhere around. “I’m sorry, I’m looking for a one, James Nam?”

for: Jaewook

Jaewook’s sober today and he haven’t had a single drop of alcohol for the last few days. It made him restless and he gawked at each pub he passed on his way downtown and yet, he didn’t allow himself a detour. He had different plans (it’s bollocks, mate, ye shoud’ve jus’ stayed hyem). In the back of his mind, he’s repeating one name over and over again -- a bloody mantra he hoped would be enough to do the charm. 

animal: fox colour: grey month: October song: I’m not a good person by Pat the Bunny number: 3 day or night: night plant: moss smell: cigarettes season: autumn food: fish’n’chips astrological sign: Pisces element: fire drink: whiskey

@insolentcynic​​ hit the ♥ for a starter 

“Why does everyone go crazy for summer?” The woman half questioned and half whined out as she slumped against the cabs seat. All of her friends would be left practically vibrating in joy the second the weather began to warm up but not Jiyoo. It wasn’t that she hated the weather exactly but she would always be left feeling much too lazy to want to do anything other than curl up and nap or sit in front of a fan all day. Still though she tried to force herself out and that was how she found herself in the back of a warm cab with her friend as they decided on a day out rather than than cooped up between four small walls. “I want Spring back. I’d even take Fall too.” But not winter, no. She hated the heat but she hated the icy cold season even more.

There were moments in his life when he’d consider himself lucky. Like the times his father came back from a business travel back when he was six, or when he bought a comic book with his own money for the first time, or him laying his eyes on a tiny chow chow puppy when he visited a shelter and deciding he had to take it home (it’s true what they said about animals choosing their owner, he had planned to get a much bigger dog, but the poor little creature simply won his heart).

He’s Korean, brought up by Korean parents in a Korean household. He should know how to fit within this society and not stand out. Maybe the reason behind him not assimilating that well was the fact that he was the only child, or maybe after years of trying to blend in within the society he clearly stood out in made him turn the opposite way. Needless to say, now that he’s in Seoul, he stood out just as much as he once did in Newcastle though this time by choice.

Dante’s hard to miss when he’s out on the street -- silver hair and eccentric clothes (and Baby Shark -- the dwarf chowchow walking by his side to complete the picture), just as if he was there to provoke negative comments among the conservative people of South Korea. Truth was, it was his way of dealing with the past and with the presence alike and most of the times he paid a total of zero attention to what they were saying, earplugs in throughout the duration of his walk.